Harry Styles Shorts and One Shots

Short Story: Best Friend 1

Word Count: 6,136
TW: Mention of death, verbal abuse

Anna

  There's nothing I hate more than Jack, my boyfriend, dragging me to his friend's parties. I'm always left out, and he ignores me all night. The only thing I can do is sit in the corner and drink, or pray there's an animal there that I can interact with.

"Do I really have to go?" I ask as I slide my jeans on.

"Yes," he beams at me, styling his brown hair into a neat quaff. "It's my best friend's party. I would like him to meet my new girlfriend."

"New? We've been dating for six months."

Jack shrugs. "Yeah, well, new to him."

"I've been to so many parties and he's never there. That's not my fault," I laugh as I look for a pretty blouse to wear.

"He finally moved back into town, so now we'll see more of him."

My eyes land on my beautiful powder blue corset-like top. The boning part is lace with roses sewn into it, see-through, and all around stunning. I decide to go the extra mile and throw on some black shiny stilettos.

"Where was he before?" I ask as I strip off my bra, sliding the top on before I zip up the back.

"London. Something to do with his family, I'm not sure. He didn't go into detail. He was there for about a year, though."

"Well," I spin, "how do I look to meet this best friend of yours?"

Jack eyes me up and down, giving me a faint grin. "You sure you're gonna wear that? You don't think it's too much?"

My smile fades a bit, suddenly second guessing my outfit. "Oh, I mean, I can change."

He glances at his watch. "No, it's okay. We don't have the time, anyway."

I quickly grab my white shoulder bag before leaving, heading to the car with Jack.

On the drive there, he has his hand on my thigh, my eyes never leaving the dark, drizzly Seattle weather. I'm not sure why Jack wouldn't want me to wear this. It's sexy, yes, but I'm allowed to wear what I want. This isn't the first time he's questioned an outfit, or wanted me to change altogether. It's frustrating, but he's never too pushy about it.

  We pull up to a huge house, my eyes widening at the sheer size of it. There's several cars parked all around the lot, suddenly making me very nervous. I've been to so many parties with Jack just within the last few months that I should be used to packed house parties. But this one is different. It's way bigger than any other one he's brought me to.

I get out of the car, quickly walking to the porch to avoid the light patter of rain. Jack immediately heads inside, almost instantly disappearing from my view.

The house is packed with so many unfamiliar faces that it makes me feel a bit dizzy. A house this size should have no problem spacing everyone out, but that just proves how many people are here. Too many.

Through the large crowd, I finally find a kitchen that is relatively empty minus a few couples. I sigh, spotting a large island full of alcohol, mixers, ice, cups, and even soda. It's like a full bar in here. There's nothing stopping me from getting drunk since I know I'll be alone all night.

I fill the bottom of my red plastic cup with vodka, shooting it back and gritting my teeth.

"Disgusting," I mutter to myself, finding some Fireball and doing it again with that instead.

After my pregame shots, I decide to pour myself a mixed drink of rum, orange juice, pineapple juice and grenadine. God, I love rich people houses.

My slight buzz starts to kick in after a while of me standing awkwardly in the dining room, staring up at the different pictures on the wall. They're various pictures of family members; all obviously entirely foreign faces to me. I have no idea which one is even Jack's friend.